Kiss him. Grab him by the ears and kiss him. Hard.
She blinked. Kiss him?
What?
No seriously, what?
* * *
His brother was saying something.Mick was probably meant to be listening, given it was almost at the point in the ceremony where he was to give Owen the wedding rings, but he kept trying to not look at Zeta.
Unfortunately, since she’d silently told him to bite her, all he could think about was, for some weird, unsettling reason, doingjustthat. Biting her. Image after unnerving image filled his head of him nibbling on her smooth, creamy skin. Nipping at the curve of her exposed shoulder, the side of her neck, her hip, her inner wrist, her inner thigh…
Fuck.
He squeezed his eyes shut, heart a thumping jackhammer against his breastbone.
Fuck. Just because she looked incredible in her bridesmaid dress, that didn’t give his body permission to suddenly behave like it belonged to a horny teenager. He needed to stop this. She wasn’t even a blip on his radar.
Yeah, like youhaven’tthought of her more than once since—
“Mick,” Owen’s low growl scraped through the thought. “Mick, the rings.”
Mick sucked in a breath. Shit.
He gave Owen an apologetic grimace and shoved his hand into his jacket’s inside pocket, searching for the matching gold bands tucked in there.
The invisible prickling weight crawling all over him told him very clearly that he was being watched.
He snagged the rings, yanked his hand free, and gave Owen another grimace. “Sorry.” He passed the rings to Owen, or tried to. Both slipped from his fingers and fell to the soft sand at his feet.
Shit. Again.
A collective gasp went through the guests. Everyone gaped at him for a beat.
Except Zeta.
She stood watching the waves kiss the beach, the ocean breeze playing with her strawberry-blonde hair. Completely indifferent to what was going on.
Why did that bug him so much?
He bent down and snatched both rings back up.
“Good thing you’re not a surgeon,” Angus muttered with a laugh.
“Shit,” he muttered in return, blowing grains of sand from the bands. He shot Owen another apologetic look and—carefully—delivered the rings to Owen’s palm. “Sorry, brother.”
“All good.” Owen chuckled and then frowned at him. “You okay?”
“I’m awesome,” he declared, swiping the sand from his fingers on the seat of his suit pants.
Owen snorted. Angus did the same.
Zeta’s light-blue eyes flicked his way, and his heart thumped a little faster.
“And I’m going to be late for my next ceremony,” the celebrant stated softly, leaning forward with a pointed expression.
Bria laughed, plucked the smaller of the two bands from Owen’s palm, and slipped it on her left ring finger. “There. Done. Now, my turn.”